Long Live the King
by Morningside
Summary: After I woke up in that hut, everything changed. I was one of Ferelden's only two remaining Grey Wardens and the Fifth Blight was upon us. That Blight wouldn't end until over a year later, but all stories have beginnings, and this is mine.


**Author's Note: **This story is basically meant to be somewhat interactive, told through the perspective of the Grey Warden Elissa Cousland as she goes through the events of Dragon Age: Origins. Starts after the Prelude and Battle of Ostagar.**  
**

Rating: K+  
Characters: Human noble (female) Elissa Cousland, + other main characters that are encountered.  
Pairing(s): None so far.  
World: Origins.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The King is dead.

Long live the king.

I woke up in Morrigan's hut, and she's just told me that those left behind in the battlefield at Ostagar were massacred. Including all other Grey Wardens, a numberless amount of people... King Cailan. _Duncan._ How Alistair takes it is the least of my problems right now. The only survivors seem to be stragglers, that are now long gone, leaving havoc in their trail in the valleys.

Or so Morrigan tells me.

I look up at her, dishevelled as I am, and I wonder if I can truly trust a word that comes out of her mouth. But, then I look around at my surroundings. I'm sitting in a hut, in nothing but my undergarments. If she or her mother wanted to kill me, they could have just left me for dead at Ostagar. Why did they save us?

I ask her and she tells me she herself doesn't understand; if it had been her choice she would have rescued the king for the bigger ransom. Though it is not supposed to be in me, I can understand the way she thinks. It's a survival of the fittest world out there. Which is why I won't tell her I'm a noble, either. I suppose the only thing left for me to do right now is be thankful that her mother, and Morrigan too, decided to spare our lives - even if I don't exactly believe Morrigan's mother had to turn into a giant bird to do it…

"You are safe here, as long as anything uncertain doesn't happen."

Great. Considering we're surrounded by a two witches, the unexpected suddenly becomes the expected. Where you have magic, you will also have uncertainties.

Morrigan tells me I should go see my friend, which I intend to do, but not until I've picked up on some supplies. There's not much here, just an iron helm and another chest I can't open, which makes me really regret never taking Fergus up on that offer he made me to show me how to pick more advanced locks. Oh well. I don't even know where he is, right now.

_My friend._ I was supposed to see the other Grey Warden. Alistair.

Right, then.

* * *

I find him standing next to Morrigan's mother by the small loch… swamp. Water thing. Kind of hard to tell out here in the Wilds. For all I know that small lake could be a swimming pool for some water monster Morrigan (or her mother) keep under the surface. That doesn't really frighten me, for one, because it's (probably) a figment of my imagination and also because before I got knocked out, I was fighting Darkspawn - they sort of take the worst edge off any other potential monsters I might ever face.

"You… you're alive! I thought you were dead for sure."

Alistair is surprised to say the least, but he seems glad to see the only other surviving Grey Warden. That's what we are, now. Two of the very few remaining Wardens in Ferelden, who also happen to be on the run.

Hurrah.

He's obviously still in shock after what happened at the battle at Ostagar. I can imagine. After all, I know the feeling: the man he likely thought of as a mentor or father figure was taken from him, and the people he called friends were taken too. But… how did it all have to happen like this? We had enough men, the beacon was lit; we should have made it. There are so many questions that need answering.

We get one straight away, with Alistair talking to Morrigan's mother and finding out her name is Flemeth. Flemeth, as in... _Witch of the Wilds_. Alistair looks at me and we make the same connection, though Morrigan's mother, now Flemeth, reassures us that she knows a bit of magic that has served us both well, and that's all it means. More interested than in what she is, I'm still wondering something else.

"Why _did_ you save us?"

Flemeth claims that her reason is that she didn't want all Grey Wardens dying at once, especially not considering it is supposed to be their… _our_ duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Well, she has a point there. But what does the Witch of the Wilds care about the Blight? I assure her that the Grey Wardens still exist, but Alistair wants to know why Loghain did this, which I think is a sensible question. But Flemeth doesn't know, so I move on to more practical matters.

"Will you be helping us fight the Blight?" I ask her.

She gives me a dry, funny sort of look before she tells us that she's nothing but an old woman living in a hut, who knows nothing about darkspawn or archdemons. I hesitate about that…

Alistair, on the other hand, still cannot fully grasp the ramifications of what Loghain has done. Or, maybe that's the problem precisely. He knows exactly the nature of what he has done, but he can't understand it.

"… he just betrayed his own king! If Arl Eamon knew what he did at Ostagar, he would be the first to call for his execution."

I look to Alistair. "Perhaps we could go to him, then."

He looks back. He points out that Arl Eamon is well liked among his people. "I know him," he says. "He's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet. Of course—we could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!"

Both of us are determined now, something which Flemeth can't help but comment on. Unfortunately, she is also right with the next thing she says. We really are going to need every strength we can find. However, I thank that if we can find strength in determination, and the strength determination itself requires, I think we have a good starting point right there.

Alistair doubts that Arl Eamon's help will really be enough, which makes me wonder if there aren't other allies we could call on. We would need the rest of the Grey Wardens. The only other option is giving up - and I can see it in his eyes, Alistair's resolute, doleful eyes. He has no intention of throwing in the towel. And, neither have I. I haven't seen my parents die and even passed the Joining just to cut, run and do nothing.

"We'll find a way," I tell him. "It's up to us, after all."

I hope it sounds as convincing as I intended.

"You have more at your disposal than what you think."

The last are Flemeth's words. She reminds us that there are others, and Alistair accounts for the other places that, in the face of a Blight, required to aid us in the destruction of it. He mentions Denerim, Orzammar… all these places are resources to us now. We could get people from there, good people, fighters and workers, and build our own army against the darkspawn.

"Can we do this?" Alistair asks. "Go to Redcliffe and these other places and… build an army?"

"Why not?" I look at him. "Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?"

My words become a statement as soon as they leave my mouth. Flemeth turns to us and asks us if we are set, if we are ready to be Grey Wardens? As ready as we'll ever be, I tell her. That's the truth.

I would have marched pretty much straight away, but Flemeth proposes that take her daughter, Morrigan, with us. Morrigan the apostate. Morrigan with the attitude of a wrung, snarky dishcloth. Attitude or not, she could be resourceful. This ought to be _fun_.

Morrigan claims to her mother she is not ready. But, I can't help thinking, glancing at Alistair, are _we_?

Flemeth certainly seems to think we are. She tells us that we _must_ succeed, and since I can't tell her that Morrigan won't come to harm if she travels with us - who knows what we're going to face out there - I simply tell her I understand, because, by the Maker, I have seen it before. A mother telling her only daughter to go…

I hope that Mother and Father are safe, wherever they are. Safe and together.

Morrigan re-emerges from her hut not long after and suggests going to a Village North of the Wilds. That's fine by me, and even though Alistair questions my decision to take her on, he does agree with that it does fit with the Grey Warden codex when I remind him we're going to need all help we can get.

"I am _so_ pleased to have your approval," Morrigan says.

I look between my two new companions. I suspect that this might not be a boring trek, if nothing else…

Well, if there ever was an after-Joining Grey Wardens test, I think I just passed it.

* * *

As we walk away from her hut, Flemeth's question returns to me. Are we ready to be Grey Wardens?

I look at the Junior Grey Warden walking next to me and my mabari, and walking in front of us, showing the way, our newly joint apostate recruit. The three of us, on our way to Redcliffe Village, to eventually take on the darkspawn scattered throughout Ferelden and maybe even end this Blight; that is, if we manage to stay alive.

Some Grey Wardens we make. And, what a journey. Are we ready for it? I truly don't know. But I guess we're about to find out.

The King really is dead.

Long live the King.


End file.
